Mission Statement
by Hairpull
Summary: "So, Gai, how do you feel about being my eternal-rival-in-law?" KakaTen.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm not a thirtysomething Japanese man. I think.

This is kinda AU-ish, as in no Shippuden or Sasuke running away.

* * *

Gai-sensei was never happy when his pedagogical scheme cracked.

His master plan: invite the ever-floundering, messy, scattered dynamic of Team 7 to flop around like fish on the fourth training ground along with them. Youthfulness must converge together and create an almost musical harmony, Gai-sensei explained. He didn't say (or rather, didn't anticipate) that a mismatched sparring pair would cause a four-boy dogpile. Neji, Lee, Sasuke and Naruto rolled in an unsightly ball of flesh. Gai ran to tear them apart.

Kakashi didn't.

Tenten, who had long ago decided Sakura was an unworthy moving target, settled for Sakura's suggestion of escaping for ice cream. They returned just when Lee thrust his foot to Gai-sensei's chin, inadvertently. They stood behind a clump of bright-berried bushes, in the shade and hopefully from the view of their respective senseis.

"What the — "

"It looks like my suspicions are confirmed," Sakura said flatly, licking a drip down the side of her cone.

"That you girls aren't going to pass the chuunin exams? I agree with you one-hundred percent, Sakura," came a voice from behind.

Sakura's ice cream cone suddenly became a projectile missile, and shot with a windswept whistle at the pile of teenages boys until it reached ground zero — Gai-sensei's head — with a seismic splat. Tenten's own ice cream wasn't nearly so spirited. It only slopped on her sandal, making her toes freeze and clench.

"Kakashi-sensei... wh-what are you talking about?" Sakura gave a plastic smile.

Her cool, calm, collected sensei stood smiling in a manner that made Tenten feel like a cockroach, or at least _some_ common household pest that was deserving of a run-in with an exterminator. She knew from Sakura's subdued stance this was a mutual feeling.

"I'm saying, if you girls want to pass your chuunin exams, you'll get out there and join the boys." He peered out at the tangle, which now included a strawberry-flavored Gai. "After Gai-kun gets it sorted out."

The three stood there awkwardly for a moment, Tenten shuffling her feet self-consciously and Sakura dabbing at her shirt with her napkin. Kakashi, however, didn't appear deterred from pushing them toward the training ground. "Go, go," he shooed, smiling.

She and Sakura carefully avoided the tangle, positioned themselves at the far end of the field and commenced. Tenten flung shiny, pointy things at Sakura lazily, while her target shrieked and made freakish fissures in the ground with chakra-laden fists. It was fascinating, she thought, how when a neat line of senbon needled Sakura's upper thigh, or a bloated shuriken grazed her shoulder, her muscle fibers had a makeshift rejoining; it was only when a kunai darted for Sakura's overly large forehead she ducked down on her knees, coming back up with a faceful of dirt. She glared at Tenten, then recoiled from the low-borne sweep of a katana.

_Let's take a break_, she mouthed.

A glance at Kakashi finally dragging Naruto and Sasuke by the ankles made this feasible. They hurried deeper into the thicket, where mosquitoes loitered.

"I suppose it'll be your sensei that catches us next, huh?" Sakura sighed, plunking at the base of a thickly rooted tree.

She appeared absolutely at ease, sprawled out in the fashion of a homeless man lying in ditch with his throat slit. Completely relaxed – in fact, that's what Tenten liked about Sakura. That's what their tentative friendship was based on, perhaps. When not fawning over her lost cause of a crush or lambasting her obnoxious orange other half (which she would never admit to in a bajillion years), Sakura was excellent company to keep. Better than Ino, whose range of topics was severely limited to flowers, clothes and hair care – sometimes broadened to makeup and pick-up tactics, if one was patient – and wouldn't hesitate to tell her her buns were uneven, then puff them three times their original size with a mysterious can of something smelly. And more than Hinata, whose stylized variations of _um _comprised most of her vocabulary.

Sakura, for the most part, was greatly appreciated.

Even if Tenten secretly wanted to be called senpai.

The thrill of the kill flew over her head right now, partially because she was subconsciously suppressing her nerves about the upcoming chuunin exam and partially because it was nice to have a sparring partner she was marginally stronger than. It probably made her lazy, definitely weakened her resolve. But she flopped on the grass anyway, ignoring the stream of ants that flurried past her ear.

"As I was saying earlier, it looks like my suspicions are confirmed."

"What is?" Tenten asked without really caring.

"My suspicion is those boys are _gay_. Well, we won't have to worry about inter-team relations anymore, will we? Neji and Lee – hot for each other. Sasuke and Naruto – ready for a marriage license. I swear, how'll I get a date? Kakashi-sensei has us train basically every day, so I don't have time to go out and mingle. I really don't want to have to depend on Ino-pig for male contacts," she sat up, disgruntled, "I mean, have you ever _seen_ those guys she hangs with?"

"No?"

She staggered around like an ape and dropped her pitch to a gruff octave. "They're all a lot older, mean, and smelly. Talk like they have laryngitis. I'm pretty sure she picks them up at bars, 'cause there's no way you can find something walking around like _that_ without a fake ID."

"Maybe that's her type." Tenten curled on her side.

"So strange. Only a few months ago we lusted over emotionally constipated bishounen together. Where has all the time gone?"

"Surely they aren't all bad. They _must_ have a redeeming quality we peons can't possibly see."

"Yeah," Sakura scoffed, "availability."

"Good for her. She's well stocked."

"Yeah, but... _ugh_. I can't see the attraction to those older dudes, seriously."

"Not all older guys are ugly – look at your sensei. He's not horrible at all. Not like mine," she shuddered. "God save the first poor soul who succumbs to the power of youth."

"What makes you think there's never been a first? Have you ever really looked at him?" Sakura was back against the tree, picking the dirt from her fingernails. "Sure, the brows, the lower lashes, the suit, the dumb philosophy, the green, the hair and the entirety of his face are horrendous. But once you strip all that away, you've got yourself a keeper."

"I still don't think so."

Sakura stilled. The thicket was flushed through with orange strips of light, and the occasional shadow of a body eclipsing their little den of inequity. Tenten thought she heard it, too – the muffled clack of sandals over grass and branches, lazy from the knowledge there was nothing to defend himself against but sixteen- and fifteen-year-old girls. Who happened to be kunoichi. But he was not of brittle confidence, so that whole hope was shot. Kakashi emerged from a set of branches with a long creak, a one-eyed glare racking them.

"I was wondering when one of them would find us," Sakura whispered dully.

He didn't even say anything as he hauled the two of them up by their arms and tossed them over his shoulders; they hung like kittens from a mother cat's mouth. The whole experience was incredibly surreal until he dumped them before the row of poles like a sacrifice. Then it simply became embarrassing. Sakura gave Tenten a toothy smile at the zenith of their scolding. _What the hell?_ Maybe she didn't like her, after all, if this was a casual happening. Sakura's look plainly said this was the good part.

"—you girls should be worried about this. Gai is, I am. This is your future. Don't be so slack about it. Seriously, Tenten, I thought you were a sensible girl. You've thoroughly disproved that theory—"

All the rest dissolved into blah, blah, blah. Maybe Sakura's look was actually schadenfreude. Probably because she looked as though he was raising a hand to her at her turn.

The boys were standing around, gawking stupidly. Sasuke actually snickered, and Naruto was visibly pissed at the sight of Sakura's slacking. Lee and Neji were the ones doing the most stupid gawking. Gai-sensei was propped up on a bench, with a black eye and fat lips. His hair still held the sticky remnants of Sakura's ice cream.

Once Kakashi streamed his last line of discontent, he shuffled in the direction of Gai-sensei.

Sakura raised her head, totally different demeanor than a moment ago. _The_ _hell_?

"What are you so happy about?"

Sakura actually put her head on Tenten's shoulder; she leered at their senseis. "Notice, back in the thicket, I didn't disagree with you about Kakashi-sensei?"

"Uh, sure."

She pulled away to squish Tenten's cheeks together. Perhaps this was getting a bit too intimate. "_That_ is the serious side effect of a single-parent home. Specifically, a mother-dominated one."

"So basically, you admit to having a sick fetish like Ino?"

"Of course, and I can see you share a similar struggle. That is, unless you live in a father-positive home," Sakura added dubiously.

Tenten thought of her mother, who worked at a laundry and could rarely be found without a sour expression. "You're right," she breathed. This new revelation really had a deep resonance, especially when Sakura rubbed it in her face.

"And I'm making it my personal goal right now to see we indulge your, my, our disgusting dilemma."

The arm squeezed around Tenten's neck had a sudden choking quality, when she didn't respond. They walked on the heels of Kakashi and Gai-sensei, as was the natural order of things. Boy genin always stuck together like onigiri rice. The meek, the few, the proud girl genin lingered around the sensei, whatever sex. That wasn't the case in Tenten's cell – she and Neji were bosom sufferers most of the time. But tonight, now when they were all headed for the grill, and Gai-sensei was too incapacitated to care about preaching to Lee, Kakashi checked back on them. He probably thought they were going to slip away again.

A whole week of this was going to be unbearable, Tenten knew. Her own team was going to be too riled to even bother with her, never mind Sakura's pair of twits. Gai and Kakashi – _especially_ Kakashi – were going dog the girls into fighting until they were up and running the whole day. Double-team dueling wasn't as fun when as you satisfied your masochistic twinge to be beaten to a pulp. There was a fair chance the boys would get to switch sparring partners; but she had a feeling the girls would stick together. Whatever, it wasn't like they couldn't make their own fun.

Upon entering town, Naruto called back to Sakura — "Oi, Sakura-chan, train with me tomorrow!" And despite initial huffs and misgivings, she stomped to the front to undoubtedly wrangle him into submission. This left Tenten as the sole tail of their train. That was, until Gai and Lee reconvened their passionate powwow. Kakashi tromped a few steps ahead, the pages of his orange book flailing. She was sort of jealous he had something to occupy himself with; she considered regaining her rightful place next to Neji, but he was too busy arguing with Naruto and Sakura on stance. It would have been a pain to bother.

At the entrance of the restaurant, Kakashi held the door open for her and smiled. She glowered back – she didn't have much use for a crackpot sensei who had the gall to berate her in front of her own. Only Gai-sensei could do that. With minimal grudge-bearings, of course.

"Maa, Tenten, maybe sometime I'll show you this neat kunai I have."

She slipped past him, disposition totally upended.


	2. Chapter 2

Feeling odd and reluctant to wake up, Tenten showered in that kind of mood that struck close to apathy, but still could feel the gurgling of guts. Seeing Kakashi-sensei. Dealing with Sakura. Hating the whole of Team 7.

The whole night before at the grill, Sakura, the hoochie, somehow arranged Tenten across from Kakashi-sensei. Absolutely nothing happened besides, when she reached for a pair of chopsticks, their fingers brushed and she went pink. He made a lame crack about not needing them, because she had a scroll full of senbon or something. She explained then, like a total retard, senbon weren't as long as chopsticks and therefore would be very difficult to maneuver. "Very insightful, Tenten," Sakura'd muttered from her corner of the booth. Kakashi-sensei gave that weird smile thing and continued reading. She didn't even remember seeing him eat, except the waitress kept making eyes at him. That clued her in, and she'd begun to wonder. . .he most likely looked like the picture of Hatake Sakumo hanging in the billing department of the Hokage tower.

She wasn't an idiot in _all_ aspects.

When she arrived at the training ground, everyone was already there as far she could see. Briefly she contemplated just going home. Then someone (always the most indiscreet) would inevitably show up at her place afterwards and discover her propped up on the sofa with a bowl of popcorn, watching the afternoon soaps. Her mother wouldn't cover.

She'd probably grind the axe for her execution, if such an occasion arose.

But right now her mother was at work. Wouldn't be back until early afternoon. She could slip out before either Mother or teammate appeared. Check out the new exhibits in the museum, go downtown for an egg cream like she hadn't in ages, visit the new blacksmith.

A mad happiness transpired when she pivoted. Her jaw unclenched. The nerves vaporized. Hey, if you're a clever cat you won't get caught.

Her very first act of rebellion included fishing out change for a juice from the vending machine only yards away from their training ground. They had it booked till four, she thought. What illness should she feign? Should she arrive later in the afternoon, wheezing and clawing desperately at her chest? Sorry, guys, I was in the ER this morning. I had a near-death experience. Is it too late? Then she'd fall down and everyone would come rushing to her side. It sounded way-off but nice.

Scrounge up a little attention for that bruised ego.

Just as the juice clunked into the bunker, she thought wildly of running onto the training ground right _now_. It was cranberry juice. She could swallow a mouthful and hack it up when Gai-sensei urged her to jump in on the exercising. He, Lee and Neji always became squeamish around sick people. One time she'd shown up at practice with a bad cold and the three had kept her at foot's length. They didn't even dip in for a punch. Which meant she had been thisclose to defeating Neji for the first time until he realized the Kaiten could probably deflect a heavy glob of snot.

She gargled some gleefully, and tried to make it so her cheeks didn't pouch so much; so it wouldn't seem so obvious. After setting the bottle on a random gum-glued bench, she did an aboutface for the training ground—

"I was beginning to wonder about you."

Why did all her wasted edibles have to be so spiritless? The cranberry juice made a straight spurt southward, onto her sandals. If it had been Sakura, or somebody else, it would have made an arc like a fish in a fountain and landed somewhere else, preferably far away from her feet.

"Uh, my alarm clock malfunctioned. I really ought to take it to the dump. It's completely useless."

He smiled. "That's alright; you're only half an hour late. Lee's been waiting for you."

_Huh?_

"He _is_ your sparring partner today, after all. It would be rude to make him wait much longer." Okay, so he clearly knew neither how to guilt her nor motivate her. Scare the hell out of her, though, yes.

"What do you mean 'Lee'?"

She didn't train with Lee. Lee was Gai-sensei's absurd chimerical creature. Lee only happened if she was feeling suicidal, which she hadn't lately. If she trained with Lee, she'd truly end up in the ER and she'd have to quit being a ninja and get a real job just to pay her hospital bills, because there was no way in hell her mother would pay them.

Neji could...

"What about 'Lee'? You and Sakura can't be paired up anymore," he informed her casually, canting his hip. "Not after yesterday."

"What about Neji, or - no - not Sasuke -"

"He's actually yours tomorrow..."

No. No. No.

"I'll train with Gai-sensei! I don't care!"

"Then it's Naruto on Tuesday."

You. I'll train with you, even.

"_You_!" she cried, unfastening a scroll from her pack. In sort of a blind, desperate scramble she lobbed around a mace.

_What the hell am I saying? It wouldn't be any better than Lee._

"Me?" he folded his book closed. Then spun a kunai around his finger. Way to go, showoff sensei. "Well, don't regret this."

She would, later on, she knew.


	3. Chapter 3

Probably wasn't a good day to feign a limp. For when Gai saw Tenten massaging her ankle tenderly on the bench, with Kakashi digging his thumbs in his pants pockets, he went batshit:

"Tenten, my precious student, has this notorious hepcat Hatake Kakashi transcended the barriers of time and space to inflict upon you wounds so brutal that you'll need hospitalized?"

"I think I'll be all right," she responded a bit too cheerfully for Gai to fully believe her.

"Are you sure? I mean, this is why I wanted you and Sakura-san to practice together in the first place! My delicate flower has no place in being subject to my eternal rival's wrath—in fact, Tenten, if you wish, you may go home to-day! This is surely a very traumatizing event. I assure you," the accompaniment of the Nice Guy pose, "you will only have to train with one beast again: the beautiful green beast of Konoha!"

If only Gai-sensei hadn't been so sincere—and presented the arduous task of _lying through her teeth_ to him— something she'd done many a time, many a time that had been incredibly easy because, well, he was _that_ annoying. But in defense of her, in front of Kakashi? Hah! She tried to justify it, bulling to her sensei. _Yeah, he really beat me up good, sensei_. She wondered if Kakashi had nerve endings or nerves or a nervous system at all. He didn't appear fazed in the least—what with a batshit Gai up in his face, spittle spraying from a mouth going at the very least 50 mph. A notorious hepcat, huh. One that probably had realized the moment she fell into the tree's hard root some forty minutes ago it hadn't been accidental– one that got satisfaction from the natural guilt that could be had at the expense of innocent others.

Sick freak.

He'd been kind, enough, she supposed, when she freaked and found herself pared down to the sewing kit she kept in her pocket. Sure, she'd pinned the small bundle of leaves near his head like a pattern on fabric. . .but the seam-ripper had gotten too close to his chest for comfort—it had wagged momentarily from his breast pocket before he sent it whistling back with scissored fingers. How casual, abrupt. Her frustration ate her up enough to bust a move only more desperate than taking her shirt off.

She fibbed a trip in three seconds flat, facedown, and started bawling because it hurt so bad. Her tongue tugged around her teeth and her elbows quivered as she pushed herself back up. A nasty fall for a nasty girl. Her palms searched out her eyes as they swelled. It hurt like hell.

Kakashi began plucking the pins from the leaves. "Hell of a dodge, ne?"

"Ugh. . ."

Once he had the pins procured in their styrofoam cushion and the seam-ripper tucked in neatly beside it, he pocketed the damn thing and stared on mercilessly as she gathered herself from her fall. There were several scrolls lying about, at her feet and farther past the knotted tree root. There were scrolls within the scrolls and scrolls in those scrolls; a framework kind of thing. Just about every weapon imaginable or available cum legal was present, ripe for a thief to pick up – because, really, Tenten didn't feel like cleaning up. She was a slob at heart, so she didn't like how Kakashi's face still looked slack, like he didn't give a damn.

He did, she supposed, but not in the way she wanted him to.

She meandered around like an old hag, to stoop and gather her sometimes-very-heavy weaponry and made exaggerated groans of agony—for instance, the mace—if something was heavy metal. . .and she didn't feel like wearing his ilk. She sat back on her knees, studying her reflection in the side of her ginsu knife, "I look like a panda now. . .thanks very much, sensei." A disgruntled sigh, a few shoulder rolls and she was back sealing her scrolls. When she finished, it was probably noon. . .

"I'm hungry," she announced.

"You should've packed a lunch then," he said, finally extricating himself from his book a second to smile like an ass.

"I didn't think about it," she muttered, brushing the dirt from her kneecaps. Now there were great green stains to mark her joints.

"More like you were planning to eat a TV dinner and have at an afternoon marathon of _The Old and the Feckless_, right?"

Tenten bit her lip, and kicked a clod of dirt that a sword had dug up, "Maybe."

Kakashi buffed the dirty back of his book against his knuckles–she sensed the upcoming lecture, something he was good at constructing but bad at delivering. Hello, had she even listened to his words yet? In his glorious monotone, one could fantasize something a little more raunchy, spicy. He could do voice-overs for movies if he wanted.

"Listen. . .I'm inclined to tell Gai that you don't care about being a kunoichi anymore. I like you Tenten, I like you a lot. You're a clever girl. . .but I don't like your fighting style. It's too forward. But you're not a very forward person, are you?"

At this he tucked away his orange book; Tenten licked her lips in anticipation of . . . what, she really didn't know.

"You're a physical philosopher. . . you think with your body. . . a girl in charge of a whole artillery and yet, she's too chickenshit to attack someone who may possibly be stronger. . .a true coward, not looking forward to challenges," he said slowly and softly, just like a hero in a movie before he started stripping off the heroine's clothes.

He was near now, like near as in they were set to do a chest bump. Too bad her head came to the middle of his chest. . . then it would be a head-chest bump. . .her brain didn't think it would fry soon, it had the best intentions. She knew for a fact she had awesome skills in the face of savory events like these. His arm curled up – into a near right angle and that rough palm sailed toward her chin. . . it scratched her a little and cushioned as she peered up at him with one eye open. Her left or her right she didn't know. The other was squinched shut.

"Um, sensei, I really oughta check with Gai-sensei now. . .please let me go."

Like he'd oblige to that bull. Gai sensei was the last person she wanted to see right now. She was, like, on the fringes of physical intimacy with a real guy. . .with a sensei, but still – _a man_. This would surely require 20/20 hindsight and some undue navel-gazing and perhaps a dash of not washing her chin for the next ten years. Tenten, as ever, could never just enjoy and savor the moment like a normal teenaged girl. Or call him out as a pedophile. That may have been appropriate too.


End file.
